


Still I Find You (Next To Me)

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mission Fic, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Slow Build, Slow Burn, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-02-28 20:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Three months after the events of Endgame, Sam and Bucky recieve a mission to go undercover to take down HYDRA's infiltration of the world's largest research and museum complex: the Smithsonian.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello my friends!
> 
> i got this idea for a fic a couple of days ago, and i'm really excited to work on it! i'm now officially on summer break, which means I can work on my fics a lot more and have more consistent updates!
> 
> title is based off of the imagine dragons song: next to me
> 
> some notes before reading:  
> 1) this is post endgame, so SPOILERS AHEAD!  
> 2) i may have hated steve's ending, but i still love him so it's all good. its minimal bashing of its ending, like light teasing.  
> 3) this fic is rated M for graphic depictions of violence.  
> 4) HYDRA confuses me and so does a lot of the government stuff. im trying my best to do research but sometimes i just write and pray it makes sense.  
> 5) enJOY

_Missing five years of a life was a lot to take in. Countless smiles, birthdays, moments - all missed. But they were immediately sent into battle, like soldiers. No time to think about all of that - no time to focus on the fact that five years of life has been ripped from half the world’s grasp. Instead, the focus was on making sure your neck wasn’t snapped in half by a god-awful looking alien, or your chest wasn’t split open when a spear pierced through it. No, the full focus was on stopping Thanos, whatever it took._

_  
_ _Then Tony Stark died - and the world turned its focus on that instead. A hero, the man who sacrificed himself to ensure the survival of the Earth and the creatures who walked it. His funeral may have been small, and private, but the whole world was watching, and grieving, and mourning, and every other feeling in between. Emotions were running high, with reunions happening all over the world. Children hugged their mothers and somewhere, twins that were separated finally stopped only seeing themselves in a mirror. Nobody had time to focus on the fact that five years had come and gone - that so much had been missed - so much had happened._

 _  
_ _And it wasn’t until Sam Wilson held a shield in his hands, staring at the elder man he once knew as his young, best friend, when it hit him. Things have changed - immensely. The shield felt heavy in his grasp as he glanced back down at it, choking on tears and just edging on pure sobbing._

 _  
_ _“Are you alright, Sam?” Steve asked, his voice hoarse with age. Sam’s hand trembled as he sat down on the bench. He placed the shield down next to him and covered his face with his hands, and, as if on cue, started sobbing. The older man laid a hand on his back and started gently consoling him, rubbing his upper back in small circles. “Sam, it’s okay.”_

 _  
_ _“Five years, Steve.” Sam managed beneath his hands. “Five years of my life is gone. I haven’t even thought about it much. My niece, hell, I don’t even know if my sister or her were part of the snap or not. It was first waking up, then battling that son of a bitch, then a funeral, then you passing down a shield that carries the world’s burden on it, and now it’s all...too much.” He lifted his head up and looked at Steve with his tear stained face. “Now look at you. You’re not the same Steve I knew. You’ve aged. You’re a completely different person. You’ve married, probably had a kid too. And it’s all so...different, Steve. It’s new. And I-“ his voice cracked and he covered his mouth, eyes squeezing shut as tears uncontrollably flowed down his face. “I just don’t know how I’m going to manage.”_

  
_“Beneath all of this, Sam,” Steve held his hand up and looked at his ring. “I still am me. And you are still you. You’ll manage, I know you will. Because you’re strong-willed. You don’t give up. When you’re knocked down, you stand right back up. That’s why that shield is yours. It represents people who can constantly get tossed to the ground and stand back up - like you can do it all day,” Steve smiled solemnly. “And you’re not alone. Both of you.” He turned and looked at Bucky, who walked forward at the notion of him. The other man placed a hand on Sam’s back, next to Steve’s. Steve nodded before continuing._  
  
_  
“Both of you have each other. You’re both so similar in your own ways. You’ll manage together. Because you both are loyal, kind, and I’m so lucky to call you my best friends.”_

 

_Sam turned his head to glance up at Bucky, who managed a small, tearful smile, before looking back at Steve. “Goddamn, you really have faith in us, don’t you?”_

_  
_ _“I never not had faith.” Steve replied, standing up. “You belong behind that shield.”_

 

_“It’s true,” Bucky chimed in. “I don’t know a more suitable person.”_

 

_Sam turned his head and raised his eyebrows at Bucky. “Maybe...you? The man’s best friend since he was a wee lil’ scrawny?”_

 

_Bucky shook his head. “I was a weapon for many years. And while that’s not me anymore, it’s still a burden I have to carry on my shoulders. No room for a shield there. It’s yours, Sam. It belongs to you.”_

 

_Sam’s face softened and he let out a choked sob before crying in his hands again. Bucky sat down next to him and consoled him. Steve patted his shoulder once before sighing._

 

_“I have to go. I’ve got somewhere to be.” Steve frowned, a hint of guilt expressed on his face. “Sam, will you be alright?_

 

_Sam snapped his head up, staring at Steve with his glassy eyes, He nodded slowly, as if hesitant about his answer. “I am -” he coughed into his fist. “Not sure at the moment, but I will be. I should be, at least, because I have to be.” He stood up and grunted a little bit, before carefully drawing Steve into a hug. “Just, um, give us the address of your nursing home before you leave.”_

 

_“Ha ha.” Steve smiled as he pulled away. Sam managed as best as he could to return it. “I’ll try and keep in touch. Also, let me know where you plan on staying, if you can. I don’t think we’re all good yet, so seeking asylum might still be your only option.”_

 

_“I can talk to T’Challa.” Bucky said, lifting his chin up with a little bit of pride. “Perhaps we can stay there until everything is sorted out. He was very hospitable when I was there.”_

 

_“That’d be wonderful.” Steve replied, grinning. “Though we have asked for so much out of him, so be sure to think of a backup plan in case he doesn’t want to be burdened anymore.”_

 

_“We’ll figure it out, Steve,” Sam assured. He smiled as best as he could. “We’ll manage.”_

 

* * *

  _Three months later_

* * *

 

Wakanda was, without a doubt, the singular best place to be. Not only was the country breathtaking with gorgeous views, but there were so many parts of it that Sam could go to in his free time. Glancing at markets in small villages or hikes in the forest, it didn’t matter to him. Every morning, he would step outside and breathe in the fresh air around him before he went on his daily run - so much better than the stingy motels he was used to staying at while trying to lay low.

 

T’Challa had welcomed them with open arms, citing that they are all heroes and Wakanda is welcome to anyone who has the heart and passion to save the world. Bucky returned to his original hut where he previously stayed, and Sam moved into a more accommodating hotel room - being cooped up in a small little hut surrounded by farm animals (more specifically, Bucky’s goats) wasn’t exactly Sam’s cup of tea, so T’Challa had set him up in one of the finest hotels in Wakanda, with an amazing view on top of it all.

 

Sam stared out the large window, absorbing the Wakandan sunset that put painters to shame. Bright orange and pink mixed with red took over the sky - artwork on display for the whole country to see. Sam never thought he would ever see a sunset like this in his life. It was calming - tranquil. He peeled his eyes away from the sunset and glanced to his side, his smile faltering a bit.

 

The shield sat in the corner of the room. Sam hadn’t put it on since that last encounter with Steve, where he was given it. He knows that he should probably grab that shield, slap on a uniform, and get to work as being the next Captain America - but something inside of him is hesitant to do so. Maybe it was the fact that not so long ago the entire world fell into shambles, and he had found out he had just missed out five years of life. Maybe it was the fact that the shield was _Steve’s_ , his old friend’s (now _literally_ old), and still feels foreign to hold. Maybe he was just afraid.

 

Of what? Sam didn’t know. Racists? Could be.

 

Sam let out a large sigh, his head hanging down as he leaned against the windowsill. These moments that he had, with feelings of absolute dread and despair, they come and go every so often. He had gotten into the habit of taking the somewhat long walk over to Bucky’s hut, where they would talk, and perhaps Sam would feel a little better, enjoying the presence of another one’s company - especially one with similar experiences.

 

Bucky - him and Sam’s relationship was complicated, to say the least. Bucky would listen to him as any normal friend would, and Sam would of course reciprocate, but there was still that aura of awkwardness that surrounded them, like a looming feeling of “someone is missing.” That “someone” was never spoken about out loud, though it was usually implied when either of the two would talk about loneliness. But it was still an effervescing presence between them, and Sam could not quite figure out how to get past that. Bucky was very reserved, and though some feelings of his were shared, Sam knew that he kept some things to himself. He respected that - though there was always a part of him that wished he had a key of sorts to unlock whatever secrets he had behind the closed door.

 

There was a knock on his door that snapped him from his thoughts. With one last, brief glance at the shield hidden in the corner, he walked to the door and opened it, and his eyes widened at the sight of a familiar blonde woman. She wore a smirk on her face and carried some files in her hand. On her left, stood Bucky, whose gaze was focused onto the floor.

 

“Agent Carter,” Sam couldn’t help but smile. “It’s good to see you. And hey, Bucky.”

 

“Hi,” Bucky said softly, almost inaudible.

 

“Sam, it’s good to see you as well.” Her smirk transformed into a smile as she gestured her head to the side. “Do you think you can come with me? We have some things that we need to discuss.”

 

“Absolutely,” Sam replied, stepping out of his room and closing the door. “Where to?”

 

“King T’Challa has lent us a debriefing room.” Sharon explained, as the three of them walked down the hallway, Sam traveling side by side with Sharon, and Bucky trailing a little behind. “I’ll explain it all when we can be sure to be out of earsight.”

 

“You hear about Steve?”

 

“Oh, believe me.” She replied dryly, her voice thick with pettiness. “I’ve seen the elder. It was a fantastic way to let me know I wasn’t getting a date. There really isn’t any hard feelings, though. I’ve got better things to worry about.”

 

Sam couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and he heard a brief chuckle from behind him. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Bucky staring at him - then quickly looking down.

 

It was a short drive to the main palace, and all along the way, Sam kept glancing over at Bucky. He was silent, which wasn’t unusual, as Bucky tended to get these little moments of silence and uncomfortableness. They don’t normally last long, but even then, Sam always wondered what the hell was going on inside that head of his.

 

When they arrived at the debriefing room, Sam and Bucky took two chairs on one side of the table and Sharon sat down across from them. She spread out the files that were tucked under her arm. Sam’s eyebrows lifted at the sight of it, before letting out a small chuckle.

 

“This looks like a lot.” He commented, and Sharon smirked.

 

“It’s actually not that much.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “So, Mr. Captain America, how are the stars and stripes treating you?”

 

Sam’s smile faltered immediately and he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I haven’t - well...I haven’t done anything yet.”

 

“Would you like to?”

 

Sam’s head snapped up, his eyebrows furrowing. A quick once-over to Bucky showed him displaying the same reaction. “What?”

 

“We have reports of a HYDRA infiltration.”

 

“Oh, that’s great,” Bucky murmured. “Fantastic.”

 

“Yeah, well, have any of you boys ever been to the Smithsonian in D.C.?”

 

“The Smithsonian?” Bucky exclaimed, tensing up slightly. “Yeah. Went there once after I was freed from HYDRA. I also remember seeing that place in a movie.”

 

Sam arched an eyebrow at him. “In...a movie?”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky replied. “I think it was called _Night of the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian._ ”

 

“When the fuck did you watch that movie? And why?”

 

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know, I was bored one day. Ain’t that all it takes to watch a movie?”

 

“ _Anyway,”_ Sharon hissed, glaring at the two of them. “Sam, have _you_ been to the Smithsonian?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been there a few times back when I lived in D.C.” Sam answered, shrugging. “Not a bad place. Tends to get boring after awhile, though.”

 

Sharon shot him a look that seemed to be a mixture between amusement and _are you for real?_ “Tends to get _boring?_ God, Sam, have some taste.” She shook her head. “Anyway, we’ve got reports that some HYDRA members have actually infiltrated the Smithsonian.”

 

“Fuckin’ parasites.” Bucky hissed, shaking his head. “Never know when to give up, do they?”

 

“Hold up,” Sam put a hand up. “How in the hell have they managed to _infiltrate_ the _Smithsonian?_ And what in the ever living fuck do they plan to do with it?”

 

Sharon shrugged. “I don’t know the answer to that. HYDRA does wild things. And they did manage to ruin SHIELD, after all, let’s not forget that little beauty.” She opened up two files in front of Sam and Bucky. “You guys, in this mission, would have to work undercover as two security guards working the night shift-”

 

“The night shift,” Sam repeated. “Really?”

 

“Yes,” Sharon glared. “Can you let me finish?”

 

“Continue,” Bucky said. Sam shot a glance at him - he was being _way_ more talkative now than before.

 

“Like I was saying. You guys would be undercover night guards working at the Natural History Museum. Now, the Smithsonian is huge, with twenty different museums to work with. But we have narrowed it down to about six museums that HYDRA has silently taken over.” She pushed the files closer to the two of them. “In your files, there’s a list of the museums that we narrowed down for you.”

 

Sam picked up the first piece of paper and read it aloud. “Air and Space Museum, American Art Museum, American History Museum, Freer Gallery of Art, and Natural History Museum.”

 

“Correct.” Sharon shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “We don’t actually have much intel about what’s going on there - we just know that some HYDRA people are working there and most definitely planning on doing something with the museums. That’s where you guys come in. Your mission involves two objectives: find out what exactly is going on, then after clearance, crash their little party.”

 

“Haven’t kicked much HYDRA ass lately.” Bucky had a hint of a smirk on his face as he picked up the file to read it. “Could be good exercise.”

 

Sam leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing as he maintained a neutral expression. “So let me get this straight. You want the two of us to go undercover for a mission that you barely have any information about, chasing blindly at a tail across six huge museums, and then knock their asses out?”

 

Sharon nodded. “Sounds about right, yeah.”

 

“Then I’m in,” Sam grinned. He turned to look at Bucky. “Maybe it is about time I put on that suit and hold that shield.”

 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You mean the shield that’s been collecting dust in the corner of your room?”

 

“That same exact one, baby.”

 

“Boys,” Sharon tapped on the table. “Focus. There’s still more shit I have to explain.”

 

“Wait now hold on,” Bucky leaned forward. “I didn’t tell you if I wanted to do this yet.”

 

Sharon sighed. “Bucky, do you want to do this mission?” She said it as dryly as possible, something Sam found amusing.

 

Bucky paused for a moment before smiling. “Yeah, I think that’d be fun.”

 

Sam shook his head, failing to suppress a chuckle. “Man, you’re an asshole.”

 

Sharon ignored them and continued with their briefing. “While undercover, you two will have these aliases. Sam, your name is Joshua Mills, a former veteran with a knack for old stuff. Bucky, you’re David Gyle, a multilingual friend of Joshua’s.” She handed them each a ID tag with a lanyard. “Keep these with you when working. If you lose them, I personally swear I’ll make sure your asses are kicked.”

 

Sam glared at his ID tag. “The fuck kinda bland ass name is Joshua Mills?”

 

“Same kinda bland ass name as Sam Wilson.” Bucky retorted, earning him a glare from Sam.

 

“You two better behave, I swear to God.” Sharon shook her head. “Do not, and I repeat, _do not_ , do anything that would jeopardize your mission. When you find intel, you report it back to _me._ Do not attack until I say it’s okay. You’re going to want backup. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes,” Bucky and Sam both answer simultaneously.

 

“Fantastic,” Sharon smiled. “You two will be staying at a nearby motel-”

 

“Hold on,” Sam narrowed his eyes. “ _Motel?_ You want us staying at some stingy, lookin’ _motel?”_

 

“You guys were in trouble with the law. They don’t exactly want it to be accomodating.” She hissed at them. “Listen, you two. If this goes well, you may no longer be fugitives anymore. This is your chance to not over welcome your stay here in Wakanda.”

 

“Fine,” Sam grumbled. “When are we leaving?”

 

“Tomorrow morning,” Sharon replied. “Your shift begins at 11:00 P.M. You can use your free time to maybe get some rest or perhaps scope out the museums for a bit. You will be using the entirety of your shift to scope out whatever HYDRA is doing, while also doing a good job at maintaining employment. All clear?”

 

“Yes,” Bucky and Sam replied.

 

“Good,” she smiled and collected the rest of her things. “I will see you both tomorrow morning to pick you up for the flight to D.C. Be packed and ready.”

 

“Yes Ma’am,” Bucky answered.

 

* * *

 

The flight to D.C. was long and arduous, but it wasn’t the worst situation Sam was in. Bucky remained silent most of the time, just staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. In moments like those, Sam always wondered what he could be thinking about. Bucky had occasionally mentioned nightmares that are prominent and he openly talked about those, but whatever thoughts float through his head during the day were usually never spoken aloud. And for some reason, Sam just had an itch to find out what was going on - but he never asked, always afraid of how Bucky might react. He kept it to himself - just him and his curiosities.

 

When they arrived at the motel, Sam let out a groan. The outside wasn’t too shabby, but from its looks any sane person could tell it wasn’t exactly five star quality. The parking lot was almost completely empty, except for a few stray cars.

 

Sharon reminded them of their mission before they went into the doors. “Don’t do anything stupid unless you run it by me, alright?”

 

The two men nodded.

 

She smiled. “Good luck, you two. Your room is booked under Joshua and David. Two separate beds, by the way, before you get all stingy on me.”

 

“Bye, Agent Carter.” Sam waved her off. “We can take it from here.”

 

With a quick smirk, she got into the car and left, leaving Bucky and Sam out in front of the motel. Sam sighed as he glossed over the building. “Come on, Jesus. Let’s go in.”

 

There was a lady at the front desk. She was a brunette, pretty, and most definitely bored out of her mind. She spoke with a dry tone, one Sam knew all too well when he worked at a supermarket in high school. “Hi, how may I help you today?”

 

“Hi, um, we booked a room? Under the names Joshua Mills and David Gyle?” Sam answered. He glanced over at Bucky, who was shifting back and forth onto his toes, his hands tucked away in his sweatshirt pocket. It was either deliberate - a way to hide the metal arm, or a natural, awkward stance. Either way, it looked rather adorable.

 

“Yes, I have you both in room 204. Here are your keys.” The receptionist handed them both a key. “Is there anything else?” She asked, and by the tone of her voice, even if Sam had something else for her to do, he would _not_ have done it.

 

“We’re good, thanks.” Sam replied, nudging Bucky along. They walked out into the parking lot to search for their room. “I fuckin’ hate motels.”

 

“Get used to it, pal,” Bucky gruffed. “‘Cause I ain’t listening to you complain this whole damn mission about the motel.”

 

“Asshole,” Sam rolled his eyes. Bucky snorted in response but remained silent.

 

Once they found the room, Sam inserted his key and unlocked it. The room looked decent for a motel. The bedspreads looked neat and by the look of it, the bathroom was clean. Sam grinned - it might be better quality than he originally thought. He turned to Bucky and gestured towards the beds. “Which one you want?”

 

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t care, really.”

 

“Aight, I’m taking the one near the door then.” Sam stated, dropping his bag on top of it. Bucky walked over to the other bed and put his stuff down.

 

Bucky collapsed onto the bed with a sigh. “Now what are we supposed to do?”

 

“We could sleep, considering we _are_ going to be working at night,” Sam replied. Bucky shook his head.

 

“I’m not tired.” Bucky stated as he sat up on the bed. “Oh! Can we go to the museums?”

 

Sam let out a groan. “Bucky, we’re going to be there _all night.”_

 

“Yeah, working. I wanna see them when I have the freedom to. We can also kinda scope out the layouts and shit. Also,” his voice lowered a bit. “I really wanna read the information. I like history.”

 

Sam softened his gaze - something about that last sentence just made Bucky seem really small - and Sam felt like he just melted. “Okay, we can go see the museums. Are you wearing that?”

 

Bucky nodded and looked at his outfit of a red sweatshirt, jeans, and a hat. “It’s comfortable.”

 

“Aight then,” Sam smiled. He grabbed his phone and wallet and put them in his pockets. “Let’s go, then.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY! Phew this chapter is kinda long. ANYWAY, some minor things.
> 
> I completely forgot that Bucky HAS been to the Smithsonian (at the end of TWS), so in the previous chapter, I changed a couple of lines of dialogue to match that.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support so far! I'll try and get a new chapter up every weel <3

The Smithsonian was a lot more interesting than Sam remembered. Perhaps it was the beautiful day that they had, with the sun beaming down on them and slight breeze billowing. Or maybe it was the fact that he had someone to go with - Sam only used to go by himself. It wasn’t that it was lonely, no, but there was no one to really talk to about the sights that he would see.

 

Bucky, Sam noticed, was incredibly enthusiastic about museums. Sam recalled that in the years back when he was following Bucky, he had traced him through museums all around the world. It would always puzzle Sam, seeing Bucky travel through endless hallways, stopping at each exhibit and actively studying the text as if he were always trying to remember something - and chances are, he probably was trying to do that. 

 

Sam stared forward - Bucky was walking a little ahead of him, and the man had a sort of skip in his step. Sam cracked a small smile - Bucky reminded him of a child so eager to go to Disney World (except - Sam noted to himself, that museums were definitely  _ not as fun _ as Disney World). He didn’t seem to mind wearing jeans and a sweatshirt on a rather warm day - though perhaps that was done purposely to cover the metal arm. 

 

“Hey,” Bucky stopped, staring up at one of the museums. “Natural History? Isn’t this the one we’re going to work at?”

 

Sam stopped next to Bucky and raised his head, taking in the view of the grand building that stood before them. “Yeah, that’s the one. Beautiful, ain’t it? I love the pillars.”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed. “There’s just...something about museums. The architecture...its always so incredible. Like, look at those windows. The overall design. It’s all just...amazing.”

 

Sam cocked an eyebrow. “You’re interested in architecture?”

 

“Eh,” Bucky shrugged. “I just find it all so beautiful. I mainly enjoy the history. There’s always…” He took a deep breath. “There’s always so much that I want to know. About the past and all of that. And maybe it’ll help me find my answers. You know, shit I’ve missed while I was being HYDRA’s _ pet _ .” He spat out the word ‘pet’ with a distaste, and Sam immediately patted his back, consoling him.

 

It’d been awhile since Bucky had escaped HYDRA’s grasp - and the improvements have been astounding. It was refreshing, seeing Bucky in such a more pertinent state.

 

The two strolled into the museum, taking the surrounding exhibits in. An overwhelming feeling overcame Sam - so many exhibits - finding someplace to begin was always the hardest. Bucky picked off a map from one of the stands and stared at it, narrowing his eyes as he tried to find an area to explore first. Then he grinned and his head snapped up towards Sam. “Let’s go to the Bone Hall.”

 

Sam arched an eyebrow. “The  _ Bone Hall?” _ He snickered. “Looking to bone someone there, big guy?”

 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Ha ha. Very funny.” He started walking towards the stairs. “Come on, Sam, it’s on the second floor.”

 

“So,” Sam started as he caught up with Bucky. “Why the bone exhibit?”

 

Bucky shrugged. “I dunno. Figured it seemed the most interesting. Also, it’s always good to start at the top of a museum and work the way down.” His hand grazed the railing as he climbed the stairs. “I know you’re not very into museums and all. But they can be incredibly interesting.”

 

Sam pursed his lips in thought. “Steve used to tell me that you were a geek of sorts. You dragged his tiny ass to a Stark Expo, right?”

 

A laugh escaped Bucky’s throat. “My God, you’re right. That was the night before I was shipped out. Christ, that was such a long time ago.” He glanced at Sam. “Howard Stark was probably our age. Around that, at least. I was so excited to go.” He paused and looked away, the color draining from his face. A haunted look clouded his eyes. “I never thought I’d be the one to murder him.”

 

“Hey,” Sam placed a hand carefully on Bucky’s shoulder, using a little bit of force to get him to face him. “That wasn’t Bucky Barnes. That was the Winter Soldier. Bucky Barnes wouldn’t hurt a damn fly unless he had to.” Sam squeezed his shoulder - just a tad. “You may look the same, but you’re two very different people.”

 

Bucky averted his gaze, though Sam could see his lips turning upwards into a small smile. “Sometimes I wish I could believe you when you say stuff like that. It’s rough, Sam. But I’m trying to heal and move on. Thanks for helping me with that.”

 

Sam patted his shoulder and retracted his hand. He tilted his head to gesture towards the top of the stares. “Come on, Barnes. We have bones to look at.”

 

“Right,” Bucky’s lips pressed firmly together in a thin line. “Bones.”

 

When they reached the exhibit, a sign near the entrance captured Sam’s eye. He chuckled and pulled out his phone, as Bucky, who was already partly in the exhibit, turned and looked at him with raised eyebrows and a confused expression. “What the hell are you doing?”

 

“Says there’s an app on the App Store to go along with the exhibit.” Sam replied, motioning to the sign with his hand. “Might as well see what it’s all about. We’ll probably get the  _ fullest experience  _ that way.” He uttered the words ‘fullest experience’ with a teasing tone, and Bucky rolled his eyes and gestured to come into the exhibit.

 

“Well, come on already. We don’t have all day.”

 

“You’re right,” Sam grinned. “We have  _ all night.” _

 

“Can it, Wilson,” Bucky replied.

 

The first set of bones were that of a vampire bat. On the display, it was all stretched out, giving off a kind of creepy vibe. Sam shuddered involuntarily - and had to remind himself that bones were just bones and there shouldn’t be anything  _ creepy _ about them. He took a look at the app and clicked on the vampire bat information. All the app had to offer were short video clips of various bats and audio bites of the noises that they make - not that interesting. Releasing a terse breath, Sam locked his phone and stuck it in his back pocket. Bucky noticed and arched an eyebrow.

 

“App not good? Not  _ full _ enough for you?”

 

“Eh.” Sam shrugged. “Just nothing I can learn that I can’t from these little...information blurb...thingies.”

 

Bucky laughed and started walking towards the next set of bones - an American Bison. “You know,” Bucky began. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Bison in real life.”

 

“I did,” Sam said, stuffing his hands inside his pockets. “Back when I was about ten, my Ma took me to a zoo. Saw a bunch of ‘em in a pasture. Was pretty cool.”

 

“The zoo,” Bucky repeated. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to one. Maybe when I was real young and all. I can’t remember.”

 

“Well,” Sam clapped Bucky’s back and moved him along. “That’s gonna have to change. You know there’s a zoo here in D.C. It’s part of the Smithsonian. Maybe after we’re done with this whole mission we can take a lil ride there and you can get your shit off to the animals.”

 

Bucky glared at him and shoved him aside playfully. “You’re nasty. I just like animals. You know that - I hung out with goats for about two years.”

 

“Mhm,” Sam smirked, then frowned. “Damn, what was that one that tried to eat me? Chased me around for at least twenty minutes while your punk ass watched and laughed.”

 

“Oh, that was Ginger.” Bucky shook his head as he laughed. “I knew she couldn’t hurt you. But it was really fucking funny watching you scream like that. I didn’t know your voice could be so high pitched, Sammy.”

 

Sam pushed Bucky’s shoulder with one hand. “Shut the fuck up, Barnes. Or I’ll turn you into skin and bones and have you placed as an exhibit in this section.”

 

“Empty threat, but go off.” Bucky smiled teasingly. “Come on, Bird Guy, I think there’s a bunch of bird bones. Or would that creep you out, knowing your relatives are on display in a museum?”

 

“God, you’re a pain in my goddamn ass.” Sam shook his head, but followed Bucky along the long hallway. 

 

“I could be more, but it’s practically impossible to get me drunk enough to do that.” Bucky retorted, and Sam blinked rapidly, pausing to take a moment to process that. Did Bucky just...make a sex joke? Sam narrowed his eyes and continued walking. He did. He just made a sex joke. Sam grunted in response and Bucky smiled, knowing he won that round of banter. 

 

There weren’t that many bird skeletons to look at, as Sam soon discovered while approaching the bird area. A woodpecker skeleton laid perched on a fake tree, and Sam walked closer to it, scrutinizing it. He read the little information blurb before glancing back at the skeleton. It was displayed in a way to mimic the woodpecker’s angle while pecking at trees - extremely creative, to say the least.

 

“I remember hearin’ those woodpeckers when I played outside with my sister.” Bucky recalled, his voice low and cautious, almost like the memory was fragile. Sam knew Bucky had his moments of forgetting, still. “They were constant. All the time. Very annoying.”

 

“Hmm, yeah. I feel that.” Sam replied, looking back into his own memories. “I heard them too. Pesky little things.”

 

There was a brief silence between them, both men unsure of what to say. Sam felt that tension begin to rise again, the kind with the unspoken “someone” between them. That could not keep happening. Sighing, Sam turned his head to face Bucky. “Have you...um...heard from Steve at all? Recently?”

 

Bucky bit his lip before shaking his head slowly. “No, actually. I haven’t heard from him in awhile.”

 

“Hmph,” Sam frowned. “You’d think he’d contact  _ one _ of us.”

 

Bucky arched an eyebrow. “He hasn’t contacted  _ you?” _

 

“Why would he contact me over you?”

 

“Because...you’re you. And reliable. And also I feel like he was always scared to really talk to me, because he kept expecting me to be that guy he knew.” Bucky shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Can’t believe he’s an old man now, though. It’s like I barely caught up with him. At least feels that way.”

 

“Well,” Sam patted Bucky twice on the shoulder. “Steve finally got the life he wanted. Guess that’s just what we have to deal with. Even if it means he doesn’t have the time to contact us as much.” Sam retracted his hand and rubbed the back of his own neck, sighing. “I’m sorry your time with him felt so short.”

 

Bucky bit his lips, nodding slightly. “Yeah.” His voice sounded hoarse. “Me too.”

 

“But uh, listen. He loved being with you, being your friend. He did lots of illegal stuff for you, so there’s that. Oh, and-”

 

Sam stopped talking when Bucky whipped his head around, hissing. He turned back to Sam and grabbed his wrist, pulling him along. “Come on!” Bucky whispered as he dragged Sam through the hallway.

 

Confused as all hell, Sam pulled away from Bucky. “What the fuck?” Sam asked, his voice low. 

 

“Shut up,” Bucky replied, grabbing his wrist again. “And follow me. Please.” He used his other hand to pull his hood over his head as he pulled Sam through the hallway. Sam had no idea where he was being taken, until Bucky started to call after a man. “Excuse me? Sir? Excuse me?”

 

The man wearing a security guard jacket turned around and stopped at the end of the hallway. He allowed Bucky to catch up to him, and when they were close enough, Bucky let go of the grip on Sam’s wrist. The man raised his eyebrows. “May I help you?”

 

“Hi. Um. My friend and I,” Bucky motioned to Sam next to him. “We’re new here. And we’re looking for a specific exhibit. Do you know where the Sant Ocean Hall is?”

 

The security guard furrowed his eyebrows. “Uh, yeah. First floor. If you’re looking for specific directions, I would go to the information desk on the ground floor. They’ll help you more than I can.”

 

“Oh,” Bucky smiled. “Thank you so much…” He leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the name tag. “Daniel Faye.”

 

“Sure.” Daniel replied, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “Have a good day. Enjoy the exhibits.” He exited the hallway, and Sam immediately grabbed Bucky’s shoulder and spun him around.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ was that for?” Sam hissed. 

 

“Sorry for grabbing you like that.” Bucky said, turning his head to look at the spot where the security guard was just a moment prior. “But that guy. I overheard him whisper to someone.” He turned back to Sam, his teeth gritting. “I heard him say  _ Hail HYDRA.” _

 

Sam blinked, his mouth slightly agape. “You overheard him say…  _ Hail HYDRA?” _

 

“Yes,” Bucky replied, voice low. “So I followed the source. Got his name. Pulled my hoodie over just incase he happened to recognize me.” He pulled off the hood and messed with his hair. “But now, we’ve actually got a lead. HYDRA really is here.”

 

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Do you know who the guy that Daniel was talking to? The one he whispered it to?”

 

Bucky shook his head. “No, I didn't. I was too focused on getting the guy who actually said it.”

 

“Wow,” Sam said, a small chuckle escaping him. “I forget sometimes that you super soldiers have enhanced hearing. You sure you heard it correctly?”

 

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “No, Sam. I dragged you across the exhibit just to check out the handsome man’s name.” He scoffed. “Of  _ course _ I heard the damn whisper correctly.”

 

“Wow,” Sam said with a bit of scorn. “Unnecessary much?”

 

Bucky waved his hand in dismissal. “Whatever. We have to figure out what in the hell we’re going to do. We’re not even working yet and we already have a lead.” He glanced around the room before pulling him to the side. “And we should probably not attract anybody who could be listening.”

 

Sam peered over Bucky’s shoulder for a brief second, catching a glimpse of a man and a woman, presumably a couple, staring at them with wide eyes and puzzled expressions. His eyes shift back toward Bucky as he nods. “Yeah, probably a good idea.” Sam paused for a few moments, before an idea came to. “Hey, wait, that guy works here, right? What if we find out more information on him?”

 

Bucky arched an eyebrow. “How do we do that without managing to come across as stalkerish?”

 

“Well,” Sam pursed his lips. “We could go to the information desk. The guy looked like a security guard, right? And that’s what we’re going to be doing - working security. Maybe we can just ask about him?”

 

Bucky let out a dry laugh. “Sam, no way. That just reeks of suspicion.”

 

“Well, I wanna ask about him.” Sam replied, walking away from Bucky. “You can come along with me or you can stay at the exhibits, but I’m gonna do this. Gotta know who we’re working with.”

 

“Fine, fine!” The other man exclaimed, rolling his eyes as huffed after him. “You’re so stubborn sometimes it is  _ unbelievable.  _ Christ, you’re just like Steve sometimes.”

 

“Well, I  _ am _ Captain America.” Sam grinned, walking past the various bone exhibits towards the stairs. He stopped to face Bucky and winked. “I even have the ass for it.”

 

Bucky snorted, but remained silent. Sam smirked and headed down the stairs, Bucky following close behind. 

 

The information desk was near the entrance to the museum, and there were several open workers behind the desk. Sam went up to a middle-aged brunette woman whose name tag read ‘Lucy.’ “Hi,” he flashed her a smile. “My friend and I here were recently employed - we’re actually starting later tonight as night security-”

 

“All security guard handlings are done by Daniel Faye.” The woman interrupted, presenting a terse smile. “If you are employed as a security guard here, he will be the one to help you. He’s the Chief security guard.”

 

“Daniel Faye?” Bucky chimed in. “Did I hear that correctly?”

 

“Yes.” Lucy nodded, her eyes just noticeably glossing over Bucky’s figure. “All employment matters are of his concern.”

 

“Thank you,” Sam said. “That’s all we need.”

 

Lucy’s lips forced a smile. “Have a great day at the Smithsonian.”

 

Bucky reached out a hand and pulled Sam away, lowering his voice to a whisper. “That guy is our  _ fucking boss?” _

 

Sam shrugged. “I guess so. This really spices things up.”

 

Bucky motioned towards the exit. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We need to discuss some things.”

 

“I thought you wanted to explore the museum?”

 

“I did,” Bucky noted through gritted teeth. “But then I find out that HYDRA’s our boss. And we need to a, report that. And b, come up with a game plan.” He stopped and touched a hand to his face, covering his mouth. “Shit. What if they recognize me? What if they recognize you? I mean. Fuck. I was the Winter Soldier. Surely my arm and my face is enough to single me out.”

 

“Okay, wait,” Sam placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, spinning him around. “We can cover the arm. The uniform has long sleeves and you can wear gloves. Your face...well…” Sam tilted his head to the side and grabbed some of Bucky’s hair. “Perhaps we can cut this off. That way it’d be harder to recognize you.”

 

Bucky blinked in surprise and swatted Sam’s hand away. “Cut my hair? No fuckin’ way.”

 

“Fine.” Sam shrugged and walked past Bucky. “Be recognized then. But don’t come cryin’ to me when they-”

 

“Wait,” Bucky huffed as he followed after him. “I’ll cut it. But I can’t do it myself.” He caught up to Sam and walked with him out of the museum and down the front steps. “You’d have to do it for me.”

 

“Sure. We’ll set you up in that crusty ass motel.” Sam said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “And I’ll chop those golden locks right off of you.”

 

Bucky made an irritated noise. “I thought I told you to stop complaining about the motel.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Sam grinned. “I live to annoy.”

 

* * *

 

The two men bickered the entire walk to the motel room, with Bucky casually bringing up how Sam could not  _ for one measly second _ not complain about the situation they were in. Sam would retort with the fact that he was not always complaining and that of course, like always, Bucky would overexaggerate every single detail in order to sway the argument in his favor.

 

“You best watch yourself, Barnes,” Sam said with a sly grin. “I’m gonna have scissors. You should be complimenting me if you want a good haircut.”

 

“Oh, my dearest Sammy, whatever will I do without your marvelous gifts of haircutting.” Bucky dryly stated, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

 

“See? Now that sounds wonderful. You should keep saying it.” 

 

“I could also not say it and live a perfectly happy life.”

 

“But where’s the fun in that?” Sam asked, his grin growing wider. He pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked their room door. “Face it, Barnes. You enjoy having me around.”

 

“That’s rich. I think it’s just the fact that I’m stuck with you until we figure out this HYDRA bullshit.” Bucky shot back, taking off his sweatshirt and tossing it onto his bed. He grabbed a chair from one of the desks and brought it into the bathroom while Sam put his stuff down. “Wait, do you even have scissors?” He asked from the bathroom.

 

“Surprisingly,” Sam exclaimed. He walked over to his suitcase and dug around to find his toiletries. “I do. I carry all sorts of shit with me.”

 

Sam could hear Bucky snort from the bathroom before grabbing the scissors and making his way into the bathroom. Bucky laid a towel on the ground and set up a chair in front of the mirror. He glanced at himself in the mirror and sighed. “I’m gonna fuckin’ miss this hair.”

 

“It’s hair,” Sam scoffed. “You can grow it back.”

 

Bucky shot him a glare. “Shut the fuck up.” He sat in the chair and huffed. “Just do it.”

 

“Just do it…” Sam smirked.

 

“Just do it... _ please.” _ Bucky gritted his teeth. 

 

“There’s the good manners! I knew they were there somewhere.” Sam brushed his fingers through Bucky’s hair, surprised by how soft it felt. Like running fingers through a silky material, and Sam felt an inner turmoil. No wonder Bucky didn’t want to cut it - his hair was actually incredible. “The fuck kinda conditioner do you use to get your hair so damn soft?”

 

“Don’t laugh, but I use Tresemmé.”

 

Sam’s fingers paused. He arched an eyebrow. “Ain’t that for wo-”

 

“Yes,” Bucky interrupted, sounding annoyed. “But it makes my hair soft and it smells good. Besides,” he lifted his chin up smugly. “Men’s shampoo and conditioner aren’t as high quality.”

 

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

 

“How would you know?” Bucky smirked. “You barely have any hair.”

 

“Hey,” Sam narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t we just talk about me holding scissors? Don’t be a bitch.”

 

“I’m gonna continue to be a bitch, because you know you have to cut my hair,” Bucky’s smirk grew bigger. 

 

“Shut up, and let me figure this out, aight?” Sam shook his head as ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair and lifted them up, getting a feel of the length. “You wanna look like you did in the ‘40s? Is that what I’m doing?”

 

Bucky nodded. “That’d probably look better on me, yeah.”

 

Sam studied Bucky in the mirror as he continued to hold his hair up. He nodded in agreement. “I only have seen you like that in pictures. You did look good with the short hair.”

 

Bucky grinned smugly. “I was a fine piece of ass back in the day.”

 

“Was?” Sam immediately replied, knowing that one day, he was going to regret this conversation. “Barnes, I hate to admit it, but you still are one.”

 

“Oh, really?” Bucky caught eye contact with Sam through the mirror. “That’s something I like to hear.”

 

“You’ll never get it out of me again,” Sam replied, using the scissors to snip off Bucky’s hair. “So take it in now while you can.”

 

Bucky only smirked in response, and Sam continued to cut his hair. There wasn’t much talking, only the sounds of scissors working and the occasional question about the length. As he worked, Sam kept thinking about how strangely intimate this was - he had cut hair before but he didn’t ever recall any sort of tension in the air. Sam felt it - it hung around them like an obvious blanket. Sam wondered if Bucky felt it as well - an uneasy, awkward tension.

 

About midway through, Bucky broke the silence. “What song are you humming?”

 

Sam stopped - he didn’t even realize he was humming. “Sorry, was I humming? I didn’t even know. I’ll stop.”

 

“No, wait,” Bucky said, his lips turned upwards in a small smile. “I liked it. I just wanted to know what song it was.”

 

“To be honest,” Sam cracked a smile. “Because I don’t even remember humming, I don't’ know what song. Probably a song my Ma used to sing.”

 

“Oh,” Bucky smiled softly. “It sounded nice.”

 

“Really? I thought you would say something mean and then I would return the banter.”

 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I can compliment you too, ya know. But fine, here’s something mean. I hate the way your face looks.”

 

Sam placed down the scissors and backed away from Bucky. “Aight, you just sit there with half your hair chopped off and the other long if you gonna be a little bitch.”

 

Bucky snapped his head around and glared. “Hey! You said to say something mean so I did!”

 

Sam grinned, holding his hands up. He moved back over and continued to cut his hair. “Relax, I was kidding. I ain’t letting you leave the motel room looking like an atrocity.”

 

“Nice to know how you really feel, Sweetheart,” Bucky grunted. 

 

Sam rolled his eyes, not focusing on the fact that the nickname sparked something in his stomach. He knew that Bucky had that Brooklyn drawl and style in his speaking - he called everyone a name like that - a ‘40s thing, no doubt. And it wasn’t that Sam minded it, no, it was the fact that every time he used a nickname like that, his heart would skip several beats and make him question his sanity. Not fun.

 

When Sam clinked the scissors down on the sink, he did a chef’s kiss to commemorate his work. “ _ Voila! _ ” 

 

Bucky grinned and got up out of the seat. “That looks great. Just like I did in the ‘40s. Now all I need is the uniform and no metal arm and I’ll be back to normal.” He said it as a joke, but Sam knew that there was a hidden sadness beneath his words.

 

“Of course you look great.” Sam moved the chair out of the room. “It is my work, after all.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky replied. “Hey, wait, what are you going to do to keep from getting recognized?” I mean, you can’t cut your hair like I can.”

 

“I feel like there was an insult hidden in that,” Sam said, going back into the bathroom. “But I don’t really know for sure.”

 

“Maybe there was, maybe there wasn’t. Anyway, answer the question.”

 

Sam shrugged. “Man, I don’t know. Maybe I should shave? You think that’d work?”

 

Bucky picked up the towel, folding it in a way as to contain all of the cut off hair. “I think that can help, but I don’t really know.”

 

“I’ll do that,” Sam moved out of the way so Bucky could throw the hair in the trash. “You think you can call Sharon for us while I shave? Let her know that we’re pretty much working directly for HYDRA at this point?”

 

“Sure,” Bucky said, leaving the bathroom. “I’ll let you know if she needs to speak with you.”

 

“Thanks,” Sam took a deep breath as he stared at himself in the mirror. He grabbed some shaving cream, slathered it on, and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont be mad at me for chopping off bucky's hair aight its UNDERCOVER BUSINESS

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are so very appreciated! i really thrive off of comments and i love you all so much.
> 
> check me out on [twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/starkologies)  
> check me out on [tumblr.](https://mculeaf.tumblr.com/)


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